


Be Right Back

by sisforsterek



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Artificial Intelligence, Black Mirror AU, Bottom!Stiles, Derek is presumed MIA, Established Relationship, Happy Ending, M/M, No Character Death, No Werewolves, Nothing can replace Derek Hale, Rimming, Sex with an AI clone, Soldier Derek, Stiles orders an AI clone of Derek to deal with his grief, With a few changes, Writer Stiles, awkward sex with an AI clone, everyone is human, sterekscene5, sterekweek2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2021-01-08 03:11:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21228821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sisforsterek/pseuds/sisforsterek
Summary: For Sterek Week 2019 theme Scene StealerA Sterek AU loosely based on the Black Mirror episode “Be Right Back”When Stiles is notified that Derek is missing in action, he resorts to ordering an AI clone of his husband to help him through his grief.





	Be Right Back

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [KhaSterek](/users/KhaSterek/) for the cheerleading to finish this, even if it’s not her cup of tea! Thanks to [Reederjoe](/users/Reederjoe/) for the beta! 
> 
> I am not from a military family, so I don’t know the exact procedure when the military informs the next of kin that their relative is MIA. I did a little research, but I still don’t claim that this is an incredibly realistic version.

Stiles has been sitting in front of his laptop for two hours, waiting for his husband to initiate a video chat. As a military spouse, he knows that the scheduled time slot for video chats is never guaranteed. Some weeks Derek isn’t able to call at all, some weeks he calls on time, and other weeks he calls late. It’s starting to look like this week is one where he isn’t able to call at all. He’ll probably send an email at some point if he can. 

At least he’s able to get some writing in while he waits. The first draft of his next novel is nearly finished. It’s loosely based on the story of how he and Derek met when Stiles was a teenager, and Derek—newly returned to his hometown to track down his missing sister—was falsely accused of her murder. Stiles—the curious son of the town’s Sheriff—had done what he’s always done best and stuck his nose into the situation, helping to prove Derek’s innocence. 

Stiles is in the middle of writing a rather long sentence when there is a knock at the front door. He sighs as he stands up and walks to the door. He peeks through the peephole, and his breath catches when he sees two uniformed soldiers standing on the porch. 

“No, no no no no,” he says to himself as he takes a step back, trying to ward off a panic attack. 

He opens the door as tears begin to slide down his cheeks. 

“Are you Stiles Hale?” one of the soldiers asks.

Stiles nods, not sure his voice will work at this moment.

“I am Sergeant First Class Harris, and this is Chaplain Morgan. May we come in?” the same soldier asks.

“Please just tell me now. Is my husband dead?” Stiles asks meekly.

“We do not know at this time. The United States Marines are sorry to inform you that your husband is missing in action. His last known contact with his unit was three days ago,” the other soldier—Chaplain Morgan—tells him.

Stiles falls to his knees. He hopes this is just a horrible nightmare.

-

Weeks pass, and there’s still no word on Derek’s whereabouts. Stiles fears the worst—that his husband was killed in action—-and he’ll never get his body back to bury. His dad and his friends visit, but their company does nothing to distract him from his worst thoughts. He spends the rest of his days in bed, mindlessly scrolling through memes on Tumblr, browsing Reddit, and staring at a blinking cursor because he’s lost the motivation to finish his novel. 

It’s not like he needs the money; Derek’s family was quite wealthy, and he was the sole heir, and now that money is all Stiles’. He won’t have to work another day in his life, and he’ll be fine. The only reason Derek joined the military was that he wanted to serve his country, although upon deployment, he quickly realized that defending the country was far from the reason the war had started. It was too late to back out by that point, and he had to finish out his contract. 

It was from scrolling through Reddit that he finds a company that claimed to be able to help people deal with their grief. As soon as Stiles watches the video and reads the frequently asked questions on the website, he starts the process of placing the order, and within a few weeks, he receives a delivery of a large shipping box. 

He pulls the heavy box into the living room and excitedly opens it. Inside the cardboard is a styrofoam cooler. He quickly pulls off the top of it, and inside that, he finds the instructions on top of something that looks like a body in the fetal position, wrapped in plastic, and covered with ice. He quickly reads the instructions before taking anything out of the ice. 

The first step is to put the “body” into the bathtub. He fills the tub with water and then pours a packet of something that looks like rock salt into the water. Then he has to wait. He can’t stand to stare at the thing in the bathtub for hours, so he goes into the second bathroom to take a shower. 

After his long, hot shower, he goes into the kitchen and eats a package of Pop-Tarts. He’s not felt like cooking in the two months since he received the news that his husband was MIA. His dad, Melissa, and his friends had brought food over at first, but Stiles hadn’t felt like eating much and ended up throwing most of it away. He also didn’t feel like washing the dishes before returning them, so they’ve been sitting in the sink for weeks, covered in dried food. He’s surprised he doesn’t have flies in his house. 

While he’s thinking of it, he turns on the water in the sink to warm up, then puts a plug in to fill the sink. He adds a generous amount of dish soap and puts the casserole dishes in to soak. If he can get the worst of the dried food off of them, he can finish them off in the dishwasher. Then he goes upstairs to his bed to nap while he waits for the solution to finish the clone. 

-

Stiles wakes up sometime later to the feeling that someone is watching him. When he opens his eyes, it’s dark in his bedroom, but he can see the form of a man sitting at the end of the bed. He reaches out for the lamp on the nightstand and quickly flicks it on. His heart starts hammering in his chest when he sees Derek. For a second, he thinks that his husband has come home, but then he sees that the man is naked and staring at Stiles with a blank expression. It’s not Derek, after all; it’s the clone.

Stiles sits up slowly as his eyes scan Derek’s clone. It looks exactly like him, even the tattoo on his back is there. Its chest is just the right amount of hairy. Its eyebrows are thick, and Its beard is full, yet neatly trimmed. He can’t see the clone’s cock from this position, but he hopes that is identical as well.

“Derek?” he asks timidly.

“Yes, Stiles,” It replies.

It sounds like Derek, but there’s no emotion behind the voice. But the body, the body is so much like his husband’s, and he wants it. He’s not had much of a sex drive in the past couple months, and now that he’s faced with the work of art that is his husband’s body, he wants it now.

“Come here.” He motions to It with one finger as he throws aside the covers with his other hand. “I want to kiss you.”

When It moves closer to him, Stiles grabs onto Its biceps and tugs It on top of his body, parting his legs as It slides on top of him. He wraps one arm around Its neck and slides his other hand in Its hair, guiding Its lips to his own. They’re soft and warm, but the kiss is chaste. Stiles needs more. He slides his tongue along Its lips, pushing it inside Its mouth. It opens Its mouth, and he slides his tongue inside, but he doesn’t taste anything like Derek. It feels like he’s cheating. Stiles pulls back and looks at Its face. It looks like Derek, so it’s not _ really _ cheating, is it? 

“Suck on my neck,” he tells It, so he doesn’t have to taste Its mouth anymore, because it’s not how Derek tastes. 

It does as Stiles tells It to, starting at the spot on the side of his neck directly under his jaw. He moves his hands down to Its ass and squeezes with both hands. It’s soft.

“Derek’s butt is more muscular than this,” Stiles says sadly.

“I can change that.” As soon as It replies, he can feel the consistency of Its ass changing, becoming firmer. “Like this?” 

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s good.” Stiles swallows.

He moves his hands to Its chest and pushes slightly. “Let me up. I’m going to turn over.” 

It’s eerie how It moves without speaking, just following Stiles’ instructions. Once he’s removed his clothes and is in position, he says, “Rim me. Stretch me out so you can fuck me.”

Stiles closes his eyes as It begins to rim him. The way It holds his cheeks apart seems delicate compared to Derek. His husband knows he doesn't have to be so gentle. Its beard scratching against his skin while Its tongue glides across his hole is the only thing that feels the same. When It presses a finger against his rim, tugging slightly, he shifts back. 

“You don’t have to be so careful. I’m not a blushing virgin. I can take it,” he tells It. 

Why can’t It just know what he needs like Derek? After years together, he always knew what to do without Stiles having to ask. Maybe if he imagines it’s their first time again. Derek had been so gentle with him, then. Stiles blindly pulls the nightstand drawer open and feels around for the lube. When he finds it, he tosses the bottle to It. “Lube.”

After It gets up to two fingers, Stiles tells It to fuck him. He can tell that Its girth is smaller as it pushes inside his hole. 

“Derek’s cock is thicker,” he tells It.

He can feel himself being stretched wider, and it’s weird, but he likes his husband’s thick cock. 

“That’s it, stop there,” he says with a sigh. “Now fuck me, hard.”

It complies, shoving into him fast and pulling out until just the head of Its cock is inside him. It's too quiet, not a bit of noise other than the bedsprings squeaking and the squelch of lube. All Stiles can hear from It is the sound of Its balls slapping his ass. It’s as if it is not exerting any energy, not panting or making any noise.

“Grunt a little when you shove into me. Pant in my ear. Grab my hips harder,” Stiles tells It, hoping it will feel more like sex with his husband. He’s only barely hard and not sure if he’ll be able to come like this. 

With the added noise, it’s a bit more like it. He takes his cock in his hand and strokes it, spreading his precum across the tip and around the head before he resumes stroking it, squeezing a little on the upstroke and twisting on the downstroke. 

He’s getting close, but he needs something else, something that is more like Derek. “Sometimes Derek talks dirty to me,” Stiles says. 

Not!Derek—as he decides to call it—says, “Your sloppy hole is like a wet cunt,“ and it’s all wrong, not something his husband would ever say. Its voice isn’t gruff, and not even slightly out of breath.

“Not like that.” Stiles pants. “Tell me that I love your cock or that I’m all stretched out around your big cock. Tell me you want to bury your big dick in me and stay there forever.”

“You love my cock,” Not!Derek says without any emotion.

Stiles groans frustratedly. “Say it like you’re desperate for me, like you’re in love with me!”

“I want to bury my big dick in you and stay there forever,” Not!Derek says, almost, but not quite, lovingly. 

Stiles drops his head against his pillow and clenches his teeth. He speeds up his hand and thinks of the last time he was with Derek, the morning he had to leave for his mission, how Derek bent him over the kitchen table after they ate breakfast and took him dry. He’d sucked hickeys all down Stiles’ neck before he bit down hard enough to leave a mark right where his neck meets his shoulder. After he’d come, he flipped Stiles around and sunk to his knees to suck him off. He’d shoved his fingers into his hole, pushing his cum back inside. It was that possessiveness from his husband that set him off, and Stiles had come hard down Derek’s throat. 

And now he comes from that memory, tears running down his face onto his pillow. “Just get off me!” he says to Not!Derek.

As soon as Not!Derek pulls out of him and moves away, Stiles collapses on the bed and sobs. This thing is not his husband and never will be. 

-

So far, sleeping with Not!Derek is the only thing that doesn’t remind Stiles that this thing isn’t his husband. He tells It to wrap Its arms around him, and with Its body pressed up against him from behind, he falls asleep to the illusion that his husband is in bed with him.

When he wakes up, he’s content, until he realizes that it’s not his husband next to him. Still, he holds onto Not!Derek for a moment before getting out of bed to use the bathroom. After his shower, he goes back into his bedroom to get dressed. It’s just sitting on the bed, staring ahead blankly. Derek would have made a comment about Stiles’ near nakedness. 

“Could you find something to do? Staring at nothing is kind of creepy,” Stiles tells It.

“I could make you breakfast,” Not!Derek replies. 

“Two eggs—scrambled, three pieces of bacon—extra crispy, two pieces of bread—lightly toasted and buttered, coffee—splash of creamer and lots of sugar,” he tells It as if he’s ordering in a restaurant. 

Not!Derek gets up from the bed and leaves the bedroom, without putting on any clothes. 

Stiles takes his time getting dressed, but he eventually heads out to the kitchen. It’s standing naked at the stove, not even wearing an apron. He wonders if It feels pain. He’s learned his lesson from frying bacon in the nude before, and it’s not a mistake he will ever make again.

He zones out while Not!Derek continues to cook. After a few minutes, It sets a cup of coffee in front of him and says, “Your coffee, Stiles.”

“Derek usually calls me ‘Babe’ unless he’s frustrated with me. Then he calls me by my actual name,” Stiles replies, before smiling at the memory of the first time Derek had been able to pronounce his first name correctly.

“Your food is almost ready, Babe,” Not!Derek chirps as It walks back to the stove.

“He’s also grumpy in the mornings,” Stiles tells It. “He’s grumpy most of the time, really, but in a cute way.”

-

After Stiles eats breakfast—when he finds out that It doesn’t need to eat, which is creepy, and another thing unlike the real Derek, who has a huge appetite—he picks out clothes from Derek’s closet for It to wear. He calls It in and tells It to put on the soft red henley with the thumb holes—that he’s always found irresistibly adorable on his husband—as well as the pair of skinny jeans that his husband always complained about when he put them on, but they made his already amazing ass look even better.

Once Not!Derek finishes getting dressed, then he tries to write. He spends an hour staring at the blinking cursor before he gives up and heads into the living room to catch up on Derek’s and his favorite sitcom. He had been saving the episodes to watch with his husband, but since that isn’t going to happen, he decides that now is as good of a time as any. 

When he turns the TV on, Not!Derek appears in the doorway to the living room.

“Sit here,” Stiles pats the loveseat next to him. “Watch with me.”

When he has arranged himself leaning against Not!Derek, with Its arm wrapped around himself, he selects the next episode and presses play. He’s laughed for probably the fifth time when he realizes that It hasn’t laughed once. 

“Derek always laughs with me when we watch this show. We both think it’s hilarious,” Stiles says when it goes to commercial. 

He fast-forwards until the show is back and continues to watch. The next time he laughs, Not!Derek starts to laugh immediately after, but it sounds forced. Throughout the rest of the episode, It only laughs after Stiles’ laughs, like It has no sense of humor on Its own. After the episode ends, he shuts off the television. 

“Let’s have sex,” Stiles declares as he stands up. Maybe if he rides It reverse cowgirl style, it will be more enjoyable than the last time.

-

After a week of living with Not!Derek, it’s become painfully clear that no amount of instructions and descriptions from Stiles will make this AI clone thing enough like his husband to help him in any way. When he calls the company to ask about returning It, the customer service representative tells him that per the contract he signed, there are no returns. After explaining that he understands that he will not get a refund and just wants to get rid of It, the rep tells him that they will send a courier to pick up It in 3-5 business days. Of course, it’s a Friday when he calls, so that means he’ll be stuck with Not!Derek for possibly another week. 

When he hangs up the phone, he decides to tell It to follow him into the home gym. At least he can watch Not!Derek go through the motions of lifting weights while he gets in some cardio on the elliptical. It’s the only way Derek was ever able to get him to get his heart rate up outside of sex.

He’s fifteen minutes into his workout when he hears the doorbell ring. He’s not expecting anyone today, so he ignores it. When it rings a second time, Not!Derek asks if he would like It to answer the door.

“That would be a bad idea,” Stiles pants. “Just ignore it.”

After the third and fourth time, Stiles finally gives up and steps off of the elliptical. 

“Stay here,” he tells It and leaves to answer the door. 

When Stiles opens the door, it’s as if he’s seeing a ghost. A smiling, bruised, thinner ghost of his husband is standing in front of him. He feels his knees giving out, but the ghost catches him, which can’t be right. Ghosts can’t catch people.

“Derek?” he asks weakly. 

“It’s really me. I’m finally home,” Derek replies.

And he knows it’s Derek, because there’s actual emotion in his voice and a familiar expression on his face.

“What? How are you here? Why didn’t anyone tell me you’re alive?” Stiles manages to say before Derek is kissing him. 

When they pull apart, his husband says, “I’ll tell you everything later. For now, just let me come inside and sit down.”

Stiles leads him into the living room, and they sit down on the loveseat, both turned slightly toward the other.

“Do you want anything to drink? To eat?” Stiles asks. He feels like he’s in a dream, like this can’t be real. He reaches out and takes Derek’s hand in his.

“I’m okay for now. Besides, I do live here. I know where everything is, unless you’ve rearranged the place while I’ve been gone,” Derek jokes.

“I haven’t changed anything,” Stiles tells him as he cups Derek’s face in one hand. He brushes his thumb across his bottom lip and feels the short hairs of his beard scratch his skin.

Derek turns his head and kisses his palm. The action makes him smile at the easy affection. He leans in and presses a kiss to his husband’s cheek. When he pulls away, he slides his hand down to Derek’s neck. Something isn’t right.

“Your dog tags are missing,” Stiles says.

“I was captured by the enemy and held prisoner, along with several other men in my unit. They took our tags, and I don’t know what they did with them. So, it’s pretty unlikely I’ll ever see my tags again,” Derek tells him as he presses his forehead against Stiles’.

“Your wedding ring was attached to it,” Stiles says sadly.

Derek rubs his back as he says, “I’ll get a new one.”

Stiles thinks it’s weird that Derek is comforting him at this moment, when Derek is the one who was just rescued from being a prisoner of the enemy during a war. 

When Derek pulls back, he’s smiling. 

“I can’t believe you’re really here,” Stiles says. He feels numb. He knows he should be calling people, telling his dad and their friends that Derek is home, but he’s not ready to share his husband with other people yet. 

“Believe it, because I’m here, and since I’m finally home, I’m going to go skinny dip in the hot tub. I’ve been thinking about it for months. Want to join me?” Derek says as he stands up. He reaches his hand out to Stiles.

Stiles takes it. He’s not going to let Derek out of his sight any time soon. 

“You head outside, and I’ll get us some towels,” Stiles tells his husband. He can’t stop smiling.

As soon as he opens the door to the linen closet, he hears Derek call his name from elsewhere in the house. He quickly grabs two of their beach towels and goes to find his husband. Stiles finds him standing in the doorway to their home gym. Then it hits him; he forgot all about Not!Derek.

“I can explain—“ he starts just as Derek says, “I was just turning off the light.”

“We should probably sit down for this conversation,” Stiles says with a cringe.

“I think I need a beer for this conversation,” Derek replies.

When they’re both comfortable in the living room, Derek with a beer in hand, and Stiles nervously running his fingers through his hair, Derek asks, “What was that thing in the gym?”

“It was supposed to help with the grief,” Stiles replies weakly.

“You thought I was dead?” Derek asks, clearly surprised. 

“It had been a while since they told me you were MIA, and I hadn’t received any updates,” Stiles says defensively. 

“I thought you had more faith in my ability to survive,” Derek jokes.

“My imagination was my enemy as soon as I found out,” Stiles says resentfully.

“You definitely have a vivid imagination. That’s why you’re a great writer,” Derek says gently as he cups Stiles’ cheek briefly.

“So, the thing—I call It Not!Derek in my head. I saw an advertisement for a new program to help with grief. I watched an infomercial about it, read the frequently asked questions, and then I ordered it without really thinking about the consequences,” Stiles explains sheepishly.

Derek rolls his eyes fondly. “So what is it, exactly? I mean, it looks like me so much that it’s creepy.”

“It’s some sort of artificial intelligence based on your social media presence. Anything you ever wrote online, any pictures of you, any videos of you, it uses that to sound like you and look like you. I found the personality aspect of it very lacking. It’s basically emotionless. I’ve already called the company to send It back, because having It around is more depressing than missing you was,” Stiles tells him.

“I’m happy to hear that I’m not easily replaced,” Derek says as he reaches out to take Stiles’ hand with a smile.

“Aside from looking at It, nothing else about It helped with my grief, and really, looking at It and knowing It wasn’t you, just made it worse,” Stiles says as he leans against his husband.

“So when can we send that thing back? Do we have to feed it?” Derek asks.

“It doesn’t have to eat, which is creepy. And the company is sending someone to pick It up in three to five business days, so I guess we’ll just leave It in the gym or something until they show up for It,” Stiles answers with a chuckle.

Derek presses a kiss to his forehead. Stiles sighs happily at the easy affection.

“So, what are your thoughts? Do you think I’m crazy? Weak?” Stiles asks, half afraid of the answer.

Derek thinks for a moment before he says, “I can’t say I would’ve done the same thing, but I can understand why you did it.”

“I’m happy to hear that. I’m also happy to have you home, alive, and for you to hold me in your arms again,” Stiles tells him.

“I’m happy to be home with you,” Derek adds.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this, please leave a comment and/or kudos.


End file.
